Miksha
by Dryad13
Summary: An original fairy tale, of sorts, in which a young water sprite finds herself in a very odd situation. Please read and review.


Once upon a time, when the world was much younger as mortal men see it, and human civilizations had only just begun sprouting up like toadstools after rain, there was a deep, wide, blue river that ran through a large valley. It had been there for years uncounted, but only recently had a city-state grown up by it. Its inhabitants judged the river to be at least five men deep and they counted upon it for food and transportation. They also seemed to enjoy throwing people into it, but that's another story.  
  
In this river, there lived a race of fish spirits, water sprites, who were on quite familiar terms with these young creatures who lived in the city of Man, as they called it. And there was one particular young fish- girl called Miksha, which was short for Mikshahanibanira-la, which in her language meant, "much beloved by the oysters". Translated, it lacked a certain something, so she usually kept her full name and it's meaning to herself among the humans.  
  
As was said before, the water sprites got on quite well with the humans. As a child, many of Miksha's friends were little human boys and girls. She decided she rather liked being around humans; there weren't many children of her own race and the humans had a certain life, a brightness, that the long-lived fish spirits in their watery homes lacked. So, soon after reaching adolescence and being deemed able to make her own decisions, she ran off to become a priestess at the city's main temple. She loved the stories, the myths that their religion revolved around. But the humans feared the gods in a way Miksha didn't quite understand; they thought that the gods hated them, and did their best to please them in hopes of escaping misfortune.  
  
But despite that one disagreement, Miksha enjoyed being among her friends and, even better, escaping the dreariness and never-ending lectures of the elders she lived among. She was happy and her life went on uneventfully for her first year at the temple.  
  
But one day, a special day, trouble arrived in a somewhat unexpected form. It was midsummer and the time of the yearly festival dedicated to the god of water, Aenki. He appeared, as he was apt to do, amid great pomp and circumstance at the top of the city's temple. The people, watching him appear, whispered in fright and excitement and bowed low in homage. He grinned broadly, having acquired a good sense of the ridiculous sometime during his existence, and stood there awhile and watched his worshipers. He had also acquired a sizable ego, the origin not being that hard to guess. Aenki loved this part of his job.  
  
But then, he spied something rather unusual; far down, only halfway up the towering temple, he saw a figure that wasn't reacting quite as he was used to. Yes, the figure was curtseying very prettily, but it wasn't showing half as much respect {READ: terror} as he was used to getting from his followers. He stared at the figure for a few more moments, and then a slow, dreamy smile spread across his greenish-bluish face. Oh, poor Mishka (for you've probably guessed by now who it was). The god of the river had fallen head-over-heels in love with her, and gods dearly love having their own way.  
  
After the ceremony was done and Aenki had seemingly disappeared, he stayed at the top of the temple, invisible, and watched his people leave. When he saw Mishka go into a side passage he glided down and followed her. When they were a good way down the passage, he grabbed her arm and materialized. Mishka gasped and turned around. She was more than a little surprised to see the fishy god standing behind her and looking at her wistfully.  
  
He enveloped her hands in his and explained to her at great length how he had fallen in love with her and wished her to bide with him forever amongst the gods in their palace and he would give her anything if only she would, please, come with him? Mishka listened very politely but, when Aenki was done, she shook her head with a faint smile upon her lips.  
  
"No, though I thank you. I'm happy where I am."  
  
Aenki froze for a moment, confused. He had not heard quite what he had been expecting. At all.  
  
"Er, perhaps you misheard me. If you would come to live with me, I would grant you powers beyond your wildest dreams and a place among the gods, to be worshipped by all?"  
  
"No, I understood you. I say no. But thank you. I'm flattered." Aenki opened his mouth to reply, his brow furrowed as if he could not believe what he was hearing. But at that moment, the moon hit a certain point in the sky; it was midnight, the end of Aenki's festival day and the beginning of the next. He was forced to leave the world of the mortals. He started to fade from sight rapidly.  
  
The last thing he said before he dematerialized was a very rude word I shall not repeat; it was said with great feeling and frustration.  
  
  
  
Before Mishka knew it, summer, and fall, and winter, and the first half of spring had passed. It was the festival of Aenki again, and Mishka regarded it with mixed feelings. When the long day of ceremonies was over and once again the fish-girl walked down the long hall by herself, she wasn't as surprised when a smooth clammy hand, rather like her own, grabbed her arm. She turned around reluctantly and saw Aenki standing behind her, looking rather like a sad cocker spaniel puppy (of course, she had never seen a cocker spaniel before in her life, but that's what he looked like). Once again, he told about all the wonderful benefits she would receive if she came to live with him in his palace beyond the stars, all in a very pleading tone. All the other gods privately considered Aenki to be a bit of a wimp, meaning that he was a pretty nice guy. Mishka bit her lip in consternation, but once again refused his offer.  
  
"Are you sure? Absolutely? I could give you eternal life, eternal youth. You would never grow old or die, with me." When the object of his affections shook her head again, he sighed and scratched the back of his head. The ceremonies hadn't lasted quite as long as they had last year, and it wasn't time for him to disappear yet. He was at a loss for what to do. He didn't want to leave Mishka, but he had run out of arguments.  
  
"So, um, how did you like the service today? I thought the high priestess to be over doing it a bit myself." The river god mentally kicked himself. That was not what he had wanted to say. But Mishka surprised him by breaking into peals of laughter.  
  
"Overdoing it? She was prostrating herself at your feet and kissing you sandals, begging for forgiveness for the city's errors. That is a bit more than just overdoing it. You aren't that frightening."  
  
Aenki was a bit disappointed. He thought himself to be an imposing figure. He started to protest again, but then realized his feet had disappeared.  
  
"Oh, drat." And then he was gone. Mishka walked back to her room, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.  
  
  
  
And so the same thing, generally, continued to happen on the same day for quite a few years after that, until Aenki gave up all together on long speeches and just talked to her. After the fourth visit, Mishka lost her fear of the rather clueless young god and started to feel sorry for him. He could have just thrown her over his shoulder and kidnapped her. Then one day, six years after first meeting him, Mishka woke up to find Aenki perched on the end of her bed, peering at her owlishly. The picture was so ludicrous that Mishka rubbed her eyes before she looked back, not quite believing what she saw.  
  
"What are you doing here?"  
  
"Well, I don't have to be at the temple yet, so I just thought I'd come and drop in on you."  
  
"Oh, and of course I wouldn't mind having you hovering around as I readied for the day. Or course not; I don't have anything to do this morning, I'm just a priestess at your temple." Mishka had not enjoyed waking up to see him in her room, her private sanctum. Aenki was miffed; he leaned back on his heels and made himself look as tall as he could, still perched precariously on her bed.  
  
"I am a God; I do not need your permission to do anything."  
  
Mishka spoiled the effect by poking him in the chest with one finger and sending him crashing to the floor.  
  
"Fine; but don't be nuisance. The gods know you're good at it."  
  
"Well, I don't think so, and I am.."  
  
Mishka was out of her bed already and searching around in her wardrobe for her formal robes.  
  
"That's different then the one you wore last year. I liked that one better."  
  
"We change our robes every year. You decide which one in the ceremony. If you don't like it, you should have spoken up last year."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Mishka pulled the robe over her head and strode over to the washbasin. She splashed water over her face with her webbed hands and dried it off with a towel. Then she rushed to the door. Aenki watched her try to ignore him, bemused.  
  
"Don't you have some place to be?" asked Mishka, glancing toward the god as she began to open her door.  
  
"I suppose I could wait around at the top of the temple," he replied. "Why?"  
  
Mishka's face softened at the disappointed look one his face. " Well, I have a lot of things to do this morning. Preparing the offerings to you, you know. But, here. If you'll go wait, I'll try to hurry and talk to you before the festival starts, alright?"  
  
"I suppose," Aenki sighed. She was preparing offerings for his festival, after all, and he knew it she would be mad and say something horribly sensible if he complained about that. So he disappeared with a "poof" of displaced air. Mishka stood still a few moments, staring at where he had been with a strange feeling in her stomach, then left.  
  
  
  
Aenki was sitting at the spot he was supposed to appear at as the city folk began to arrive before the temple. He had waited, invisible and very bored, for hours. Mishka had never arrived. And the ground was jam- packed with peasants and merchants and soldiers before he caught a glimpse of iridescent blue-green skin in the crowd. The god allowed his vision to zoom in on the speck. There she was, in her new robe; and a tall young soldier stood next to her, head bent to look at her. Aenki leaned forward unconsciously. A hand rose to stroke her cheek, but then trumpets blew a fanfare and Mishka rushed to the base of the temple, leaving the soldier behind. Aenki stared, horrorstricken, eyes fixed in the spot where the two had touched. In all the years since he first saw Mishka, he had never even thought about someone else falling in love with her too.  
  
But then the High Priestess of the temple was mounting the steps, chanting as she went, and he knew it was time to materialize. He did so, schooling his face into one of arrogant unconcern. The rites went on, and the festival, but all Aenki could do was stare at the one spot he knew was Mishka. He knew that he replied the High Priestess's ritual words, but he didn't know what he said.  
  
After all the regular folk left and long after night had fallen, Aenki went invisible again and flew through the temple halls. But he couldn't find Mishka; he looked in her room, and hovered outside of the bathroom, and searched through the eating hall, but all in vain. In despair, he retreated to the gardens, thinking he would wait out the rest of the day by the large fountain at its center. There he found Mishka, gazing into the water.  
  
"Is that why you never come with me?!" he cried, materializing in front of her. She leapt into the air and looked at him, shocked at vehemence. "I have promised you everything I can think of! Was it because of him?! Was that why you've refused me year after year after year?!"  
  
Mishka shook her head slowly, her eyes sad. "Valir? Him? I'm sorry that you saw that: Valir is such a boor," she said, and shook her head, harder, then glanced up again at the god in front of her.  
  
"I never come," she whispered softly, "Because you have never offered me anything I want."  
  
Aenki was desperate; he could feel his time ticking away, knowing that he would disappear in minutes. And, despite her words, he had the sinking feeling that by next year his chance would be gone.  
  
"Please! If you only come with me to my home in the heavens, I promise that I will love you until the stars crumble, until the humans forget me and I disappear into oblivion! I beg of you."  
  
He stopped as Mishka raised a hand to his mouth and covered his lips gently with her fingers.  
  
"Aenki, my dear, foolish, totally clueless young god," she said, "That is all I have ever wanted you to say since you first came and promised me godly powers."  
  
"What? Really?" asked Aenki from behind her hand, sounding completely bewildered. Mishka nodded firmly.  
  
"Oh." Then he looked down, and saw his legs fade away. "Sh-umph!" Mishka wrapped her arms around him and kissed him on the lips, muffling the curse coming out from his mouth. Aenki looked shocked for a moment, but, right before his face vanished, a look of absolute delight swept over it. Then he was gone, and Mishka had evaporated with him. 


End file.
